#Lithuanian clothes
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"Bodywear by Ramona" 1993 models.
The work of the Australian-Lithuanian Ramona Ratas, ballet dancer, daughter of the famous graphic artist Vaclav Ratas.
After her ballet career ended, she decided to create graphic works that people would wear on their bodies instead of hanging on walls. According to her, no one had done anything like this before, so she hoped that such a work would encourage the fashion industry to take up more "authentic" graphic art.
leva, November-December, 1993, 10-13.
#fashion history#Lithuanian fashion#Lithuanian clothes#Australia#fashion photography#australian fashion
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Lithuanian woman, Lithuania, by Lietuvos nacionalinis kultūros centras
#lithuanian#lithuania#europe#eastern europe#folk clothing#traditional clothing#traditional fashion#cultural clothing
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A Dance, Darling?
TW: Noncon Kissing, Implied Kidnapping, Almost Panic Attack, Intimate Whumper, Forced Relationship
Whumpee brought their fingers up to rest on the rubies encircling their neck. It was not as extravagant as they had expected from him, but it was still hefty enough to feel each individual jewel press into their flesh, a constant reminder on their skin.
Leaving the necklace alone, disturbed by what it represented, their eyes travelled up to their face in the mirror. Their makeup was all red. Lipstick, eyeliner, eyeshadow, each a dark shade that could only be accomplished by Whumper mixing some of their own blood into the cosmetics. They shuddered at the memory of the experience.
Whumpee groaned as he made another cut on their back, pressing the clear vial under the opening. The blood prickled their skin as it made its path down into the small jar.
Whumper brushed his lips against their neck, “we have to make sure you look your best.” He pressed on each side of the wound, drawing out more of the scarlet substance. The flow of red now rushed into the container.
They sobbed, while Whumper watched in fascination.
Underneath the bandages, their spine pulsated at the memory, and they could feel the beginning barbs of phantom pain. Whumpee shook their head, freeing themself from the thought.
Moving along, their gaze moved further up to their hair. Whumper had asked– told– them to put the small red jewel feathers he gave them in between the locks. In any other situation, Whumpee quite enjoyed the look of them in their hair, it was as if their hair was a flower sporting red leaves, but here, their image was immediately soured by who gave them to them.
They frowned. Another chain.
Their hands moved down to follow the curve of their dress. It was a deep crimson, matching their makeup and jewellery, and flowed down to their ankles. A hole was cut out at their chest, causing Whumpee to scrunch up their nose in distaste. It was shoulderless with a high slit on their right side, showing off their leg and the scars that adorned it.
Whumpee hated it.
They were not very used to wearing dresses in the first place. They would thought it beautiful on someone else, but it felt foreign on their own skin. It complemented their figure too well, emphasizing their chest, hips, and waist in a way that made them feel like a piece of meat on display. The slit showed much more skin than they were comfortable with and Whumpee was paranoid that they would accidentally flash someone. They kept tugging the fabric down, but there was nothing more for it to do. Whumper’s intent with the dress was clear. Flaunt the prized lamb he bought in the auction.
However, they would prefer the objectification over the reason he actually chose this dress for them.
Easier access.
It made them nauseous. Their fingers itched to rip and tear the dress off themself. Strip themself of the shame and fear.
Whumpee slammed their hands onto the sink, pulling their attention away from their apprehension and resentment. In, out. In, out. In… Out… Drawing in each breath worked to ease their misgivings. A technique Whumpee relied heavily on throughout their time here. Inhaling fresh air, exhaling all theirworries.
A few seconds and Whumpee was back to their original state.
Not normal, not calm. But manageable. Never fully calm again.
Their eyes drooped down to the final piece tying their ensemble together, the gold band that encircled their left ring finger. Part of them enjoyed covering up the scar from his teeth, hiding how they were now permanently tied to him. The other part of them knew this was just a fancier shackle. A more obvious cuff for the public eye.
They fiddled with the ring, twisting it back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. God, they just wanted to throw it out the window and watch as it got lost to the city forever.
They slowly pulled the bond up their finger, only thoughts of release and escape bouncing around their head.
“Do you like it?”
Whumpee whipped their head around to see Whumper standing in the doorway. They shoved the ring back down.
He had pushed his hair back for once, the fluffy black locks smothered under a layer of gel. His suit was black, as was his tie, which were accompanied by a red vest and button up, matching their dress perfectly. He still wore the same three earrings, now pairing with their own red drops. Whumper had taken off his glasses, presumably switching them for contacts, emphasizing his dark lashes and ruby eyes.
He looked them up and down, unabashedly ogling, before finally settling on their face. “You look absolutely gorgeous, dear. Red looks nice on you.”
“I prefer blue.”
Whumper’s lips twitched. “Are you ready? Best not to be late.” He swiftly turned around, ignoring the obvious last ditch attempt to rile him up, grabbing his keys and heading to the door. Whumpee trailed behind, already dreading the party.
————
The bright lights of the venue were the first thing to assault Whumpee’s eyes. They stepped out of the vehicle, admiring the show of excessive wealth, jumping at the slam behind them. Whumper tittered at their reaction; he had closed the car door behind them, chivalrous, as always.
Whumpee turned to glare at him, unamused. He initially looked surprised at their outward frustration toward him, before smiling once again.
Whumper offered them his elbow, red eyes boring into them, and Whumpee was quick to accept the proposal. “Off we go, my love.” Handing the keys off to the valet, he walked into the large building, practically dragging Whumpee with him.
It was an open ballroom, filled with people mingling, the low hum of talking almost overpowering the small orchestra playing music in the corner. It was decorated with an abundance of gold and white, adding to the affluent and lavish vibe. The middle of the room was open for couples who wanted to dance, the sides filled with tables holding various hors d'oeuvres and desserts. At the very end was a stage covered in balloons and banners, where the host would most likely give their toast.
Whumpee cringed at the overwhelming amount of people in the room. They had never been that much of a fan of parties, but now, their usual anxiety seemed to have increased tenfold. Their skin itched as if everyone was staring at them, checking them out, assessing their worth, finding their weaknesses. It reminded them of the tense stillness before a fight, not a party. The wounds across their back and stomach throbbed, their ever present pain intensifying, and making Whumpee even more self conscious.
What if they could see them? What would they do then? Would they help them or find it amusing? What would Whumper do?
This was too much. They couldn’t do this. Couldn’t pretend everything was fine. They needed to get out of here.
Panic crawled up their spine, and Whumpee slightly pulled away from Whumper, hoping to escape. But his grip was firm, and they were stuck pressed into him. Whumper’s body shook with light laughter at their alarm, peering down at them. Upon seeing their expression, however, he twitched.
Whumper pulled them even closer to him, “want to go back home, darling?” His eyes were softer than usual and his face contorted into a small frown, “do all the people frighten you?”
Whumpee nodded vigorously, pressing themself closer to him, trying to appeal to his affection for them.
Whumper placed his free hand on their cheek, and Whumpee nuzzled further into him. “Don’t worry, I’m here.” He seemed to think for a few seconds, watching them carefully, before his lips widened into a sharp smile. “As much as I would love to go back home with you,” he mockingly placed a hand over his chest, “and it truly does make me elated that you consider me your home now,” Whumpee flinched, recognizing their mistake, trying to draw back away from him, “but,” he wouldn’t let them go, “we prettied you for this. We can’t go before you meet everyone and indulge in the festivities. Can’t have it all go to waste, now can we?” He tutted at them.
Whumper continued to stare at them before they realized he wanted an answer. Whumpee slowly shook their head, accepting defeat, slumping down into themself.
Whumper patted their cheek before pulling back. “Kaip geras. Now let’s go, I already see someone I want to introduce you to.”
He pulled them along further into the room, and Whumpee took a deep breath, hoping, but failing, to prepare themself for the night to come.
————
The next hour or so was filled with Whumpee standing docilely next to Whumper, a smile plastered on their face while he spoke to everyone who came to greet him.
It was the same thing over and over again. A name they wouldn’t remember, faces that blurred together, shallow compliments about their outfit, and, the worst of all, congratulations to the happy couple.
Whumper keened at all the flattery, especially those of their dress and jewelry, making sure to pipe in that he was the one that purchased them for them, and, as they were expected to follow along, Whumpee thanked him for the “generous” gift from a loving fiancé. He always managed to squeeze in a kiss for the presents, tilting their head up and drawing Whumpee in whenever they expressed their gratitude. This only delighted the other guests, amused at the young couple’s public show of affection.
It was torture.
Now Whumpee, thankfully, had finally gotten a small break from Whumper flaunting them off, standing on the sidelines and trying to drown their worries into a small flute of champagne.
Never too far, Whumper was in the corner conversing with what they could only assume to be potential buyers, and, though he wasn’t facing them, Whumpee could still feel the ever present weight of his eyes watching them, making sure they didn’t run. As unnerving as it was, Whumpee preferred it over his stifling presence bearing down next to them.
The hero scanned the room as their mind drifted. They could try to get help from the other people here, but Whumpee didn’t foresee much success through those routes. They recognized half the guests from files back in their old office, and those who weren’t publicly villains were most likely not much better either.
However, even if they weren’t in the same circles as Whumper, what could Whumpee say that would convince them of their situation. Their last stunt as a hero left them humiliated and discredited; they looked crazy to the public eye. Someone who had lost their way and needed the guidance of some pristine charitable schmuck who graciously sacrificed themselves to help them. In the end, it would be their words against his, and no one would believe them.
And on the small, small chance they did… Whumpee shivered at what Whumper would do to keep them with him, how he would take revenge for their defiance. They knew it wouldn’t just stop at them, and, as much as they despised it, the hero in them couldn’t let that happen.
As always, he had the upper hand.
They were taken out of their musings by a gloved hand appearing in their line of sight, too deep in thought to notice Whumper had finished his conversation.
“Join me for a dance, mylimasis?” An award winning smile was plastered on his face, amusement obvious as he played the part of a perfect gentleman. Whumpee grimaced at the irony.
Seeing no way out of it, Whumpee cautiously placed their hand in his, their trepidation bringing a small chuckle out of the man. Whumper gently brought them to the dance floor, joined by other couples who wished to sway with their partners. Whumpee brought their arms around his neck as he encircled their waist, skin crawling where he touched them.
Whumper rocked them side to side at a slow pace, calming just by watching them. Whumpee scrutinized him, trying to understand his game; it wasn’t like him to do something so simple without an ulterior motive.
His fingers started to tap along their waist, following the beat of the music in the background, while he continued to watch them. Whumpee stared back with the same intensity, struggling to smooth their face so they weren’t outright glaring at him. He seemed rather startled at their ‘sudden’ annoyance, eyes widening, before he sheepishly smiled at them. Their face must have slackened in confusion as he relaxed as well, returning to watching them. They continued like that, swaying in the crowd and looking at each other, for a small while.
Finally, a blush spread across his cheeks, and Whumper quickly turned away.
He’s like an embarrassed teen.
They huffed slightly in disbelief, causing Whumper to turn back around at the sound. Realizing the awkwardness, he cleared his throat before asking. “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”
“Yes.”
He perked up. “Really?”
Whumpee sent him a dry look. Whumper visibly wilted and they scoffed, looking away. Seriously, again?
Letting their anger and frustration get the best of them wasn’t the smartest move, they knew that, but their proximity was putting Whumpee on edge, making them more irritable than usual.
“You are going to have to get used to this,” Whumper said, breaking the silence. Whumpee turned back, shocked by his now blank face. “I’m tolerating your disrespect because we’re in public, and I recognize this is your first time being away from home in a long time. It makes you nervous, I understand that. But,” his fingers dug into their waist and Whumpee had to suppress a gasp, “when we’re officially wed, you’ll have to join me to these outings frequently as my wife.” He leaned down so their eyes were level, “I will not indulge this pitiful defiance of yours, then.” Whumper straightened back out, looking down at them, always able to make them feel small with just a glance. “So, I recommend you start familiarizing yourself with the appropriate behavior now.”
Fuck.
Whumpee gulped. They had screwed themself over.
Head bowed, Whumpee accepted defeat. It always ended like this, with Whumpee on their knees before Whumper, metaphorically or literally. They had no response other than to let themself be pulled every which way by Whumper.
Now pressed up against his chest, Whumper and Whumpee swayed as more and more partners made their way to the dance floor.
Leaning down once more, Whumper supplied their companion with more information. “Get ready, brangusis, it’s about to get fun.”
Noticing the crowd of couples, the small orchestra shifted into waltz, and everyone moved in sync.
Whumper brought their clasped hands up and moved his other to their hip, brushing over an old wound. Whumpee harshly sucked in a breath before placing their hand on his shoulder. He commenced the dance, and Whumpee tried their best to keep up.
Step, slide, step, turn.
Whumpee hyper focussed on their feet, trying to match his movements. They didn’t have much experience with ballroom dancing, having only taken a few classes as a joke with Bestie, and the one time Caretaker tried to teach them, though it hadn’t ended very well. Whumpee smiled at the memory: them and Caretaker a mess of limbs on the floor as Whumpee had slipped and doomed them both to a few more bruises across their body. They had been so out of breath from laughing when they couldn’t untangle themselves from each other. It had been a spur of the moment idea, some stupid thing meant to bring them closer together. It worked.
“Something funny?”
Whumpee broke out of their reverie, not even realizing they had zoned out. Whumper’s mouth was a hard line, displeasure at not being the center of their attention apparent.
It irked them how needy he always was. Kidnapping, experimenting, torturing, and assaulting them wasn’t enough?
They mumbled a quiet apology, peeking up at him through their lashes. It worked and Whumper eased with a blush.
The musicians kept a steady adagio tempo, giving any more couples who wanted to join an extra moment. Whumpee slowly acclimated to the rhythm, matching Whumper’s moments not long after.
“You were always a quick learner,” he laughed. Whumpee grimaced.
As they danced, he squeezed and kneaded along their side, curious of their reactions. His fingers pressed into an old bruise and Whumpee staggered. He kept them balanced, yet began a game of finding where else he could push to get a pained response.
They tried to pull away from the pokes and prods, tottering with each failed attempt. They whined when he reached a fresh stitched gash. Whumpee could feel the meager string split under his pressure, spilling blood that wouldn’t be noticed under the crimson of their dress.
Whumpee startled when their dance faltered for a moment, for once not because of them. They peered up at Whumper, surprised to find dilated eyes trained on their throat.
“Don’t do that.” He ground out.
Ah.
Whumpee was more than happy to obey. That train of thought would lead nowhere good for them.
Screaming in pain would also most likely not bode well with the other guests. Whumpee sighed, nodding and gritting their teeth through his subtle exploration. Their head throbbed.
The music picked up, pushing them to move even faster. Whumpee already felt dizzy from the quick paced movement, and Whumper’s tight hold over their still healing cuts was not helping. “Smile, love. People are watching.” He purred.
Heeding his warning, Whumpee stretched their mouth into some semblance of a smile, lips twitching from the strain, and kept dancing. Whumper relaxed his grip slightly, pleased with their obedience.
Step, slide, step, turn.
Just as they were getting used to pushing the pain down to the rhythm, Whumper let go of their waist, spinning them. Whumpee stumbled, but he kept them moving, pulling them back in after they completed a turn. He seamlessly continued their dance, not giving Whumpee a break to get their bearings, delighting in their increasing disorientation.
Step, slide, step, turn.
He continued to spin Whumpee every few steps, quietly laughing at their mounting nausea. However, each time their expression began to display their discomfort, Whumper would lean down to mutter a reminder of what would happen if they didn’t keep up the facade. His own twisted form of encouragement.
“I don’t like to share, sweetheart. Those expressions are only for me.”
Step, slide, step, turn.
“Many guests are watching us love, don’t disappoint them with your sour countenance. I don’t want them gossiping about how I have an unruly wife.”
Step, slide, step, turn.
“You look marvellous when you spin. My pretty little thing. Keep going.”
Step, slide, step, turn.
“Your dress makes me want to add more red. How about the blood of everyone here, ęh? Do we want to see?”
Step, slide, step, turn.
“Don’t fall. I’ll get jealous. And we will have to fix that by adding bruises of my own.”
Step, slide, step, turn.
Vomit slithered up their throat. Their eyes burned with the effort to keep it down, despite the writhing of their stomach and the taste of maggots in their mouth.
A particularly fast whirl caused Whumpee to lose their footing, almost bringing them both to the floor. Whumper was quick enough to avoid disaster, but it put them out of sync with the music for several beats.
“Watch it, Whumpee. You will not ruin this for me.” He said harshly. “Keep slipping and I’ll snip your legs.”
The again didn’t need to be said.
But, Whumpee was trying their best, except every movement only exacerbated their aches and exhaustion. Their breathing became laboured and their limbs felt heavy, their beaten body unable to keep up with the overexertion.
They wanted to tap out now.
Whumpee tried to pull away, releasing his shoulder and stepping out of his grasp, only for his grip on their other hand to constrict. Whumper drew them back in, gracefully spinning them as he did so, and pulling them up against his chest in a flourish. They gasped as he once again agitated their wounds.
“Where are you going zuikutis? We’re not done yet.” He pinned them even closer to him, leaning down to whisper in their ear. “I can hear your heart hammering. Does our dancing make you that excited?” Whumpee tried to pull away, but their efforts were fruitless. Their body was drained and Whumper was holding them too tight.
They were about to slump against him, give in and let Whumper sway them on the floor, accept whatever punishment he saw fit, but before they could fully relax, he pulled back, placing their arms once again in the position for a waltz. His expression was harsh, “I said we weren’t done yet, mielasis.” Whumpee flinched, eyes shifting to the people outside the dance floor, but he started to move them once more.
Whirling and pulling. Twisting and pulling. Spinning and pulling. Pulling. Pulling. Pulling.
They can’t keep up.
The music seemed to intensify with their panic. Whumpee could hear their pulse pounding in their ears. The sound of their harsh breathing contrasted with Whumper’s controlled ones. The voices at the edge of the room grew. Tapping of shoes on the pristine floor echoed in their head.
Each sound pushed against their skull, battling one another for space in their mind. Whumpee began to wobble more, unsteady feet tripping their partner. Hands clawing at whatever they held. Chest tightening. Vision blurring. Throat closing. Tired. Hot. Dizzy.
Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go. LET GO-
“Breathe, it’s over.”
A hand rubbed soothing circles along their back. Whumpee blinked rapidly, vision and mind slightly clearing. They found themself leaned down, hovering over the floor.
The song had finished. Whumper had dipped them.
The crowd around them released small whoops and cheers for all the dancers, surrounding the couple with the sharp clap of applause. Whumpee tensed. Whumper hurried to calm them.
“Ramiai, ramiai vargšas.” He slowly pulled them back to their feet. “I see I got carried away. This was too much for you.” Whumper told them softly. “We’ll work on it.”
Whumpee couldn’t process what he was saying, too busy trying to return to the world around them. They were pliant as he led them off the dance floor.
They spent the next few minutes leaning into Whumper as they calmed themself down. If they could think clearly, Whumpee would have pulled away from him long ago, but they simply did not have the mental capacity for hatred or fear right now.
After they reached a more coherent state, he spoke. “I’m going out for a smoke.” Whumpee was still breathless from their dancing, barely able to catch up to what he was telling them. “You don’t have to join me, I know how much you hate it. But,” Whumpee suddenly grabbed their arm, throwing them off balance once more.
“Stay here.” They didn’t think they could anywhere if they wanted to, they were too light headed from dancing. That was probably the point. “I’ll be back in 10 minutes.”
Whumper examined them a final time, before nodding to himself. He steered Whumpee to a corner, despite their, almost drunken, stumbling. Then, they were on their own.
They felt the need to cry, the tears pressing against the back of their eyes, but they- they just- it wasn’t working. They couldn’t. Not here. They just needed to focus on their breathing.
They leaned against the wall, thankful for its cool surface, hoping to steady themself.
In… Out…
In… Out…
In… Out…
Rhythmic breathing slowed their racing heart. Air stopping its fight in their lungs. Muscles no longer protesting as loudly. Whumpee’s body finally calmed from the stress of his waltz.
They took a few more moments to themself, forehead pressed firmly against the plaster. Just breathing. Mind emptying. Preparing for a few more hours of struggle.
They could do this.
“Whumpee.” A hand landed on their shoulder, warm and familiar. They jolted, spinning around. They froze once their gaze landed on Caretaker.
Her dress, a fitted corset around her middle that flowed out into a long skirt, was a striking cerulean color that complimented her eyes. There was a large collar that covered from her neck to her shoulder, decorated with sapphires, holding a sheer cape that flowed down to trail behind her. Her makeup used only various shades of blue, highlighting her dark skin.
They felt their eyes water faintly at the sight of such a familiar face. It had been too long.
“C-Caretaker!” Whumpee cringed at their own voice, simultaneously too rough and too bright. “Wh-what a surprise. It’s been a while.” Whumpee tried to keep their cool. They couldn’t drag her into this, they wouldn’t, no matter how much they might want to.
A whirlwind of emotions flashed through Caretaker’s eyes, too quick for Whumpee to tell what she was feeling, before hardening, anger and determination shining through. “Where were you! I- We kept looking for weeks.” Her gaze saddened slightly, “I- I thought something had happened to you. When you didn’t answer after you went in… I was worried, and then the incident-”
“Well!” Whumpee clapped their hands together, effectively cutting off the woman. “As you can see I’m fine. Didn’t they tell you where I was? My comm broke, nothin’ serious.” They told her carefully. “And, you know I had that vacation lined up,” their lips stretched into a shaky smile. “That’s all. Nothing to get so worked up about!” They laughed. Whumpee hoped their expression was convincing enough.
“But-”
Whumpee sighed. “Look, I know I never reached out-”
“What- Never reached out! I sent you so many messages, you missed all my calls.” That was because Whumper had taken their phone. “You never miss my calls.” Whumpee stiffened. That was very true. They made sure to never miss a call from her again. “Then one day you just told me to stop contacting you completely!” They hadn’t known about that, though Whumpee wasn’t very surprised.
Caretaker averted her gaze. “D-did I do something wrong? I would’ve left you alone if you had just told me what really happened.” She grabbed Whumpee’s hands. “I just- I-…” The woman paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You’re someone I care deeply about, I thought we were close. I-I needed to make sure you were okay… I’m sorry.” Her body slumped, the rage and conviction seeping out, dropping Whumpee’s hands. All that was left was a tired, worried friend.
As they watched their partner deflate, Whumpee realized something. Here she was, one of the few people willing to look for them, and all Whumpee could do was brush them off. As much as they hated it, however, they were firm in their belief; they would not rope Caretaker into this. It was not safe. They had faith in her ability as a hero, but Whumpee had seen, had experienced, what Whumper could do first hand, and they would not take the risk. They would never forgive themself if something happened to her.
But they would not leave Caretaker with nothing either.
Whumpee bent down, hoping to console their companion. “No, Caretaker, I-”
“You never introduced me to your lovely acquaintance here, dear.” Whumpee bolted back up, putting as much distance between the two of them as they could. The man now next to them, leaned down, extending a hand to Caretaker while the other wrapped around their waist. “Whumper. Whumpee’s fiance .”
Caretaker’s eyes widened in shock, recognition flashing, before she smoothed her expression out into a smile. “I see! It’s nice to meet you. I’m Caretaker, Whumpee’s friend, their partner.” She took his hand, squeezing tightly. They silently stared off at each other, before Whumper drew his hand back and straightened. “Y’know, Whumpee never mentioned they were dating anyone.” The accusation was clear in her tone.
Whumper’s fingers twitched. “Well, we wanted to keep our relationship a secret. Taking the time to tell everyone would be a hassle if we weren’t sure. And you know how annoying those pesky reporters can be.” The arm around their hips tightened slightly, a warning. “Right, Whumpee?”
Whumpee straightened, trying to school their face into that of a happily engaged person. “Y-Yes- yes, of course. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. A-as you can see,” they waved in his direction, “this was also part of why I took that time off.”
Don’t ask more. Do not ask more. Please.
“Huh… Then, when you set the wedding date do tell me Whumpee. I would love to come.”
Whumper twitched again, his eyes darkening. “When we do, I’ll be sure you are the first one to know.” He shifted, turning slightly, planning to drag Whumpee off with him. “Now, there are-”
“Oh!” She grabbed Whumpee’s arm to stop them. Whumper glared at the offending limb, and Whumpee could practically see the violence run through his brain. “One more thing,” Caretaker’s smile became strained and her eyes narrowed. “Whumpee, when do you plan on getting back to work? I know you said you were taking a vacation, a very important one at that, but all vacations end, right? You’re very important to the agency, and the boss is starting to get worried. You’ll have to come back soon, you know how they get-”
Whumper cut in, pulling them out of her grasp, not giving Whumpee a chance to speak, composure slipping. “No.” He glared down at Caretaker, who stiffened and glared back in response, fists at her sides. Whumper cleared his throat. “Now if you’ll excuse us, there are more introductions Whumpee and I must make. Come along, darling.”
Whumper bent down, cupping Whumpee’s face and smashing their lips together. Instinctively, their hands went up to rest on his chest, neither pushing away nor pulling closer. The acrid tang of smoke invaded their nostrils and the sour taste of tobacco stuck to their tongue. Their eyes scrunched close, they didn’t want to do this in front of Caretaker. Whumper felt their resistance, tightening his arm painfully until they finally kissed back, instead wrapping their arms around his neck.
Just sell it.
Whumpee felt Whumper instantly soften at their touch, as always, relaxing into the kiss. He kept them there together for another few seconds before they broke for air.
When they turned to look at Caretaker, her face was filled with horror. Her arms were limp at her sides and she gawked at them with dread. Whumper smirked, a cat who got his cream, before turning and taking Whumpee along with him, the arm around their middle again a vice.
While they walked away, Whumpee turned their head one last time to look at Caretaker, silently pleading that she didn’t pry even further. Caretaker nodded, hands once again fists, with determination in her eyes.
Whumpee didn’t think that Caretaker understood what they were asking her to do.
This wouldn’t end well.
#my writing#W#☡#whump#whumblr#whump writing#ballroom whump#defiant whumpee#conditioned whumpee#obsessive whumper#intimate whumper#possessive whumper#creepy whumper#whumper x whumpee#worried caretaker#protective caretaker#hero#villain#villain x hero#i started this april 25 2023#its literally been a year#how#granted i wrote this very off and on#yall can probably tell what was written earlier and later#but i saw ballroom whump and got obsessed and this came to be#and necklaces representing collars but thats not rlly here#also all the lithuanian terms are the masc version bcs masc also encompasses they/them (i think)#enjoy my terrible explanations of clothing :3#also whumpee wears a dress (not their choice)#take that as you will
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Mildly obsessed with the idea of Anya wandering around countryside Russia after being allowed to leave
And like, meeting a bunch of different people from different ethnicities
Like a Kazak family that takes her in during a snowstorm and gives her a new shirt
A pair of Ukranian brothers helping her around Odessa and their sister gives Anya a traditional coat because it's far warmer
A Polish woman who gives her a shawl embroidered with beautiful flowers
A Lithuanian family who let's her stay with them during the harshest winter months and teach her dances in their barns and gives her a traditional skirt because her old one was small and torn
A Russian farmer showing her how to make felt boots
So by the time she reaches Leningrad it's impossible to tell where she's from because her clothes are a collection of different cultures and ethnicities mingled in the Russian population
Idk I feel like that's so sweet
#i have many ideas for the lithuanian family#reigniting her love for plays and performing because thats what she used to do for her family#the russian farmer being a grumpy middle aged man who scares her but is so sweet#even eastern ethnicities with asian influences who migrated would be so cool#then theres dmitri in much more western clothes like “what”#anastasia#anastasiaromanov#anastasiamusical#anastasiabroadway#anastasia the musical#anya
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i loveeeee seeing people wearing and enjoying their culture's folk clothing. like YES you look great and it's beautiful and uoure beautiful also <333
#on that note i would like to say that lithuanian folk clothing is absolutely sick#especially the women's clothing
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Traditional Lithuanian women’s clothing. Aukštaitija (Upper lands) region. Vilnius, 1955.
M.Glemžaitė. Lietuvių tautiniai drabužiai. Vilnius, 1955. Aukštaitės-vilnietės moters tautiniai drabužiai (iš priekio ir iš nugaros)
#tradition#clothing#lithuania#lithuanian#lietuva#history#aukstaitija#vilnius#woman#women#black and white#monochrome#traditional
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You like historical clothing, yes? Would you be willing to either give me some tips or resources about historical Lithuanian clothing for men?
Thank you!!
Sure I who not mind, i choose the ancient baltic clothing
Early Iron Age (I–IV centuries AD)
Clothing is believed to be of a tunic style. Tablet-woven sashes with simple, longitudinal designs are worn, tied at the waist or to embellish the garment edges. The cloth is woolen, woven on vertical frame looms in a 3-shaft twill pattern. Women’s headwear is embellished with small, round or flat metal pieces, their fronts adorned with ornaments hung on twisted, two-stranded wire. Another special type of women’s headwear from this period covers the temples with a symmetrical pair of flat, ring or coil shaped ornaments. We still do not know if this jewelry was worn for specific occasions. The metal ornaments from the period are subtle in form, made of silver filigree, with incrustations of azure blue glass and framed in red, black or green enamel.
In the later part of this period, these types of ornaments, as well as elaborate multicolored glass bead necklaces brought from the Roman Empire, are no longer in evidence. The dominant technique for making ornaments becomes metal casting; decorative elements echo patterns found in tablet-woven sashes: longitudinal designs made up of dots, triangles, or series of open circles. Designs on brooches consist primarily of arched ladders. Long needle-like pins worn by women are bobbin shaped, or less commonly they have rounded blue ends, worn in pairs, joined together with one or two small chains and pinned to the shoulder region. Ornaments worn around the neck have trumpet or cone-shaped ends, often with azure blue dangles. Bracelets are massive and cut from a round piece of metal, or less commonly, made from braided pieces of metal. During this period both men and women wear such arm decorations, usually one on each wrist. Bracelets made of braided metal are especially popular.
Middle Iron Age (V–VIII centuries AD)
The clothing style as well as the cloth worn during the Middle Iron Age remains much the same as before: the woolen cloth is still woven on upright frame looms, and sashes have the same linear patterns. The metal ornaments, however, are not as subtle in style as before. They are much larger and the bodies of many of the pins and brooches are made of bronze and covered with a thin layer of silver; minimizing the amount of precious metal used.
During this period women begin wearing skull caps – a few rows of short woven decorative elements, interspersed with cast flat metal pieces, decorated with metal eyelets and strung together on woolen thread. Bracelets are still massive, with only the portion encircling the wrist being somewhat narrowed, their ends are now wider. Women wear one or two on each arm, while men adopt the habit of wearing one very large bracelent on the left wrist. This is the so-called “warrior” bracelet, intended to protect the wrist when holding a battle shield.
Necklaces made of glass beads are typically worn only by women, although men of the Aukštaičiai tribe also wear such neck ornaments. Both men and women wear amulets made of amber – typically a large bead, cone-shaped at both ends, that was hung from a brooch, sash, or woman’s straight pin. As before, needle-type pins are worn in pairs, connected with small chains and decorated with small hanging ornaments. In the northern regions these are a woman’s primary accessory clothing element; brooches, such as those worn by men, are not found with their clothes.
The women of the southern Baltic tribes use brooches to fasten their clothing. These are circular in shape, cast in bronze or silver, and often decorated with serpent head motifs, or sometimes with poppy seed pods. Men wear leather belts with raised metal clasps, and sashes from which they hang their weapons, and tall boots fastened at the knee with belt buckles.
Late Iron Age (IX–XIII centuries AD)
During the Late Iron Age the ornamentation of the clothing worn (and, we believe, the clothing silhouette itself) changes. Brooches now have a horseshoe shape rather than the earlier circular shape. We find some of them in men’s graves, leading us to surmise that men’s clothing from the period was cut down the center and that the brooches were used as buttons. The tablet-woven sashes now have more complicated patterns of geometric rhombi, and cross and swastika motifs.
Along with woolen cloth, beginning with the 10th century, we now find cloth made of linen. The larger quantity of woven material leads us to believe, that towards the end of this period, the Balts, like other European peoples, have now learned to use horizontal looms. With the advent of flax cultivation, we begin to see the use of thread made of a wool/flax combination in woven sashes and later, in scarves.
As before, women enjoy wearing knotted skull caps, although now their small metal ornaments are no longer cast, but rather hammered into various shapes and embellished with intertwined ellipses, swastikas, triangles and rhombi. These pieces are strung on braided or spun linen thread rather than on strands of wool. Bracelets are mostly of braided metal. Men continue wearing a massive bracelet on their left wrist, but now these are wrapped in a long woven sash and strung with small rings (chainmail). The Semigallian wimples are adorned similarly with small chains strung together on a long string, as are Samogitian womens’ hats/headwear. Maple tree whirligig-shaped ornaments hang from their fronts.
Clothing often is embellished with tiny round metal beads, a style especially favored by Semigallians. Samogitian women string and hang beads in a flat rhombus shape on their robes, so that as they move, the beads touch each other and make a tinkling sound. Selonian women like to pin tubular bronze pins on their robes to form various geometric designs; the tunics of the Latgalian men are similarly adorned.
Important parts of the “dress uniform” of warriors/soldiers are tall boots and a leather belt covered with hammered bronze plates ending in woven bronze tassels. During this period neck ornaments are made of braided metal with loop and hook closures. Those worn by Selonian women have flat, curved ends decorated with geometric motifs; some have additional flat metal pieces or small round bangles arranged in a trapeze shape. Often these bangles are used to form a part of womens’ necklaces along with braided elements and glass beads. As before, bracelets are mostly of braided metal, although their central portions are widened and geometric forms added.
XIII–IV centuries AD
The changes in outfits worn during the 13th – 14th centuries are even greater. Along with the traditional and locally made garments of linen and wool, we now find imported weaves of silk and brocade. Because of their expense, these materials are used only in sashes and textile-based headwear. Plaid scarves can now be found. Headwear has also changed; now it is made of sashes of wool or silk and decorated with small, four or five-sided flat plates; spaces between them are filled with threaded bead embroidery (biserio).
The shape of brooches changes, such that now we find round, cast brooches with a hole in their center used for fastening. Small horseshoe-shaped brooches are found arranged vertically on the right side of the neck, most likely having been used to fasten the opening of a dress or underclothes. Bracelets are uncommon and the ones found are now of a different shape – in the form of bands made from pieces of bent, decorated sheets of metal, or tripartite and joined with loops.
Necklaces are made from small glass beads, with rounded, four-sided, or cross-shaped dangles and seashells. Earrings are a new accessory and are worn primarily by Balt women, who also begin to wear metal-plated belts of the type that men wear, as well as a new “invention” from the West – leather pouches with closures attached to their belts. Also worn are amulets – claws of male bears encased in bronze, and cast bronze keys with rhombus-shaped tops in a gothic style.
The men’s outfits of this period are much harder to determine from the available archaeological material. Nevertheless, we can deduce that men wear woolen socks and tall boots, and linen underclothes. They sport wool tunics woven on a three shaft loom, with their garments held together with bronze plated belts from which would hang a leather pouch and knife.
#lithuanian historical clothing#lithuanian history#historical clothing#ancient baltic#baltic tribes#baltic history#lithuanian hetalian#hetalian#madam of Lithuania answers#ask answered#ask#madam of lithuania#madam of lithuania's ramblings
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Lithuania Minor women wearing folk clothing in Tilsit/Tilžė (Sovetsk, Kaliningrad today) 1912
#source: Lietuva Senose Fotografijose#Lithuania#Lithuanian folklore#Lithuania Minor#Lietuvininkai#Lithuanian Folk Clothing#baltic folklore#Tilžė
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I want to make information on Lithuanian folklore in English more public so I am uploading the threads that until now were only on my Twitter. I present to you a comprehensive thread on aitvarai, the ancient Lithuanian deities of the skies
(art credits: Neringa Meškauskaitė, Agroshka )
Aitvarai (etymologically "ones to appease" or "irrepressible force") are domestic creatures associated with all 4 elements: a comet of fire which harnesses wind for chaos, helping Earth and its people while being chased and punished by Perkūnas for stealing water.
Most commonly a black rooster, they can appear as a variety of creatures: different kinds of black birds, grass snakes, whirlwinds, comets and even men if they fall in love with a woman that they want to marry.
Though very powerful ancient beings, Aitvarai choose to associate themselves with people, with villagers being able to either hatch them from an egg of a 7 year old rooster or attract them by leaving out hot, untouched meals like porridge and scrambled eggs.
When part of a household, the duties of an aitvaras were to bring riches to his caretakers, either as money (money carrying aitvarai were golden, deep red or silver in coloration) or as wheat (grey and black colors). Note that aitvarai only served the poor, tricking the wealthy people who tried to use them.
Aitvarai were both a blessing and a curse: while they did bring wealth, they did it by stealing from the neighbors of their master, making them most hated in the local village. They were also clingy and dangerous to keep, burning down the houses of those who mishandled them by feeding them manure, tampering with their meals or disobeying the rules they set for the person.
It is said however that their thieving, evil nature was a characteristic given to them by the Catholic church, which wanted to demonize every pagan creature in Baltic mythology.
In fact, aitvarai were considered genuine problems by those who believed that they would steal from them: from warding off statuettes in granaries to court cases from 1700's accusing people of harboring an aitvaras (I found only one source claiming this, so take it with a grain of salt).
However, the desire to have an aitvaras was apparent as well, shown by modifications peasants would make to their homes: holes in the doors of granaries would be made so an aitvaras could enter the home easily.
Some rituals for stealing back from a flying aitvaras exist as well, ranging from simply showing it your bottom, to cutting oneself with a rusty knife, pinning the corner of your jacket to the ground, ripping or otherwise ruining clothing.
Even if the reaction of people to them was mixed, aitvarai were considered pests by the gods due to their tendency to drink/hoard water, for which they were struck dead by Perkūnas, exploding into sparks that caused forest fires, the thunder god's lightning forming ponds, holes and swamps, terraforming the earth.
#lithuania#mythology#folklore#lithuanian folklore#lithuanian mythology#aitvaras#aitvarai#eastern europe#Viltės threads
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gilbert in the clothes of a young prussian nobleman during the polish lithuanian commonwealth and the era of ducal prussia
#im pretty happy with this!#hws prussia#my art.#liet gave him.the lip scar during grunwald#also if he looks depressed its bc he is
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By Agnė Kuzmickaitė
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Lithuanian women, Lithuania, by alkas.lt
#lithuanian#samogitian#lithuania#europe#eastern europe#folk clothing#traditional clothing#traditional fashion#cultural clothing
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Alfred, what is your favorite thing each of your roommates has brought over to your country? And to Ireland, Romano, and Lithuania, what is your favorite thing about America? (the country not Alfred.)
As for the others...
Alfred can afford to be a little more idealistic, but that's just his way.
**Historical Note: Though immigrants from each of these groups contributed in a variety of ways, these are some of the ways in which they contributed most prominently.
Irish Americans were incredibly active in the entertainment industry, especially in music. Irish Americans were very prominent in vaudeville, and eventually Broadway. However, this was due to a pre-existing music tradition that stemmed from Irish immigrants bringing over their folk music. Many Irish airs became popular parlor songs in the UK, America, and Canada. The strong Irish presence in the Union Army during the Civil War also further popularized folk songs such as "McLeod's Reel." Though the Potato Famine caused the decline of traditional music in Ireland, many songs and playing styles were preserved by Irish Americans in the United States and later carried back to Ireland in the 1890s-1920s when recordings began to become accessible. These recordings were also among the first to be sold in the United States.
Italian American cuisine is one of the most influential marks left by the community, especially from Southern Italians. Many innovations in Italian cuisine occurred in the United States, and many Italian immigrants became successful restauranteurs. This explosion occurred due to previously inaccessible foods suddenly being affordable in the United States, such as meat and imported cheese. Today, Italian American food is still one of the most popular cuisine choices in the United States.
Though all of the groups mentioned had involvement in labor union activity, Lithuanian Americans were particularly prominent activists. One of the most famous of these activists was Emma Goldman, but there were several others who formed the United Mine Workers and the Amalgated Clothing Workers Union. Sydney Hillman, a Lithuanian immigrant, was the head of the Amalgated Clothing Workers Union from the 1910s to the 1940s. Even in fiction, in Upton Sinclair's The Jungle, Lithuanian workers and their union activity are the central focus. Lithuanian Americans' strongest import really seemed to be their activism!
For all of these groups though, one big part of what made American so attractive was the comparative plenty to what they had in their countries of origin. Though many immigrants worked long, difficult manual labor jobs, they were able to afford new goods in the United States that had previously been unimaginable. This is mostly due to the United States' ability to produce goods en masse, which made them cheaper. Furthermore, in Ireland and Southern Italy, land ownership had become virtually impossible (through landlords hiking rent prices in Ireland or land distribution after the Risorgimento in Italy). Even if their positions were not enviable in the United States, from a financial standpoint, their salaries and the resources available put them in a slightly better position.
#hetalia#historical hetalia#hws america#hws romano#hws lithuania#hws ireland#nyo!ireland#immigrant trio#immigrant squad#hetalia ask blog#ask#last seminar my paper was on how the irish diaspora changed and preserved traditional music#so if i pop off a lot about that in the historical notes that is why (it is a roman empire in my brain of sorts)#this was a fun ask though! sorry for taking so long to answer!!
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some lietpol in traditional clothes
these are clothes worn by nobility of Polish and Lithuanian Commonwealth from XVI century aka the golden era
I feel like I have to draw long haired Liet more often, ma boy Tolys looks ✨majestic✨ like that
also Feliks is prolly standing on a step to be this tall but shh..
#art#hetalia fanart#aph lithuania#aph hetalia#hetalia axis powers#aph poland#hetalia shitpost#hetalia#hetalia world stars#hws lithuania#hws poland#lietpol
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On this day, 5 January 1939, Lithuanian Jewish anti-fascist and Spanish civil war fighter Samuel Kaplan was transferred by Communist Party authorities to the Montjuich prison in Barcelona. Kaplan initially joined the Durruti Column in July 1936 and fought against the nationalist forces of general Francisco Franco. However, when conflicts arose within the Republic between revolutionary workers and the government, Kaplan was arrested in February 1938 by the secret police, the SIM. In June 1938, held on a prison ship, he wrote a message in a bottle complaining of his treatment and threw it overboard, hoping that it would be found by "fishermen comrades". The note was miraculously found and passed to Kaplan's union, the CNT. In it he wrote of his captors: "Here they have lost all human sense, and if in addition you protest they treat you so much worse. It is a thousand times worse than in Germany in the concentration camps. Since the 29th April I have not seen the sun and I lack food and soap to wash my clothes and face. We sleep on the ground in the greatest misery." Kaplan had previously been imprisoned for his political activities both by the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany in the Dachau concentration camp, which he escaped. He was eventually transferred to the notorious Montjuich prison. Just days later, Franco's forces took over the city, and shot all the anti-fascist prisoners who had not been able to escape. Nothing more was heard of Kaplan, and so most assumed he had probably been killed. But in 2017 a reader of this page got in touch with us who was actually Kaplan's son, and informed us that he had been able to escape once again and eventually flee to Mexico, where he lived out the rest of his days. We give a short introduction to the Spanish civil war in our podcast episodes 39-40: https://workingclasshistory.com/2020/06/17/e39-the-spanish-civil-war-an-introduction/ https://www.facebook.com/workingclasshistory/photos/a.1819457841572691/2179397378912067/?type=3
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Lithuanian (Lietuviai) tribe clothing V-VIII
Semigallians (Žiemgaliai) tribe clothing I-IV
#lithuania#traditional#baltic tribes#clothing#baltic#tribe#lietuva#pagan#nature#lithuanians#history#historical
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